Not A Sick Day
by CheekyBrunette
Summary: Kendall Knight had always been one to ignore being sick... Luckily, Logan had his back. Sweet enough to rot your teeth! **for BigTimeRush-BTR*


**Hmmm… I was looking for a Glee thing to write, and I realized I don't have anything… sad. Oh, wait, yes I do… Hmmm… It depends how long I want to procrastinate… but I may write that NEXT. I mean, I could write Delayed Regret, but I've already written a new chapter that I haven't posted yet, as it is still Sunday, so that would be useless… Hmmm…**

**So I'll write this. I feel like… I don't know. This one might be weird. Please don't hate me… But it's for BigTimeRush-BTR, I believe… as she gave me a request and I said yes. **

**Seriously, requests. I may morph them a bit to fit my writing style and needs or whatever, but I'm generally relatively good about actually doing them…**

Kendall woke up, and knew he was sick. He had been feeling pretty run down for a while at this point, and how nauseous he had felt last night at dinner _really_ should have been an indication for how he would be feeling, but nothing –_nothing_- could have prepared him for _this_. Ugh, it felt like his insides were playing twister… that, or attempting their very own organ pyramid… This was not good.

Unfortunately, Kendall Knight had no freaking _time_ to be sick. Gustavo was really pressing them to finish up their album, Geometry and Chemistry were growing into subjects that he honestly couldn't miss a day of, and he was admittedly too worried to just send his boys out into the world all alone. No, he had to get up and face the day like a man, even if merely swinging his legs over the side of his bunk made him dizzy.

His friends were already out of the bedroom and getting ready by the time Kendall had made it down from his bunk. He was standing in the middle of the room, looking around and trying to figure out what he needed to be doing, when Logan walked in, toothbrush in his mouth. "Yo, dude, you okay?" he asked around a mouth full of toothpaste as he snagged a fresh cardigan from his drawer to pull over his button up shirt and tie. Kendall nodded, shaking away his vertigo to talk with Logan.

"Yeah, bro. I just can't even _begin_ to search for a shirt in this mess," he said, gesturing to the pile on the floor that was his bed. Oh yeah, finding a shirt… Whatever, Kendall didn't think he could manage enough energy to dig for one. He'd probably just steal one of James's later, even if it meant getting yelled at for stretching it all out… He couldn't help it. He was just stronger than the other guy…

Logan shrugged and left the room, presumably to spit, and Kendall sighed, letting his shoulders sag as he went through the far too difficult task of getting dressed. He had _no idea_ how he was going to make it through the day, especially when he was already exhausted and it had taken him fifteen minutes to figure out how to right-side-out his pants. It was going to be a long morning…

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Kendall was right. The morning was long. He wasn't exactly sure how he had managed to make it through the school day. Every time he looked from his notebook to the board, he felt himself tipping out of his seat a bit, but he couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or from just being so <em>dizzy<em>. Maybe a little bit of both… He knew he was supposed to be learning, but he couldn't even get his _eyes_ to focus, let alone his brain.

It didn't help that Logan was looking at him all flustered for the entire morning. It was like he had suddenly turned into his mother… Kendall didn't want to be looked after; he just wanted the day to be _over_. This day already felt way too long, and the clock was just skimming twelve. Why?

Kendall had his duffle slung over her back as he made his way to the limo, the distance from the classroom to the parking lot feeling like a mile. He just wanted to sit down, lean back, and close his eyes for a _second_ before he had to go and sing until his voice was hoarse. The thought of three hours of standing in a stuffy box almost made him want to cry. Oh gosh, how was he going to handle this? He was suddenly thrown off balance when a hand snagged his wrist.

He struggled to right himself due to how the room was _already_ tilting _before_ he fell, as Logan tried to talk to him. "Dude, are you sure you're okay? You look honestly green, and you're not all ther- Kendall!" he yelped, and the blonde refocused his attention from trying not to vomit on the floor and onto Logan. "See?" the pale boy exclaimed, "This is what I'm talking about! Do you need to go lie down?" Logan asked, and Kendall shook his head, trying not to wince because –woah- bad life choices… The lobby seemed to turn on an axis.

"I'm cool man," he said, voice thick as he struggled to pronounce the words through the hazy fog caused by his ridiculous headache. Logan didn't look so sure, but luckily, the limo was pulling into the Palm Woods, and the conversation was cut off when Kendall made his move for the car. As he climbed in, he couldn't help but sink into the cushions, scowling when the blasted thing started moving and the driver seemingly aimed for every bump on the street, his head pounding in his skull. The sharp turns through LA's gridded streets had him near vomiting every time.

Somehow, Kendall made it to Roque Records without any major breakdown or horrifying display of illness. He couldn't help but send up a prayer. He unfortunately had to _walk_ down to the recording studio, and gosh… had the floor always been slanted like this?

Without his actually acknowledging it, Kendall had managed to make his way to his usual stool before his microphone. Gustavo was yelling something at them, but Kendall was more concerned on focusing on his head not splitting open than anything he had to say. Besides, he yelled all the time. Their producer glared daggers at them before turning to leave the room and go sit in his chair to watch them sing. Logan nudged him.

"Kendall, I really don't think you should be putting yourself through this. If you're sick, it's only gonna get worse if you push yourself," Logan said, and Kendall honestly just wanted to yell at him to stop being such a mother hen, but that would practically defeat the purpose of him getting out of bed in the first place. Also, it would make him a _total_ hypocrite. He just shrugged Logan off and took the microphone in both hands, waiting for his cue before letting the lyrics flow out.

He made it a total of two verses before he let himself slump on his stool. Never had he wished more for there to be a back to the freaking thing… He had to _lean_. Sitting up just felt so _hard_, and everything was spinning around him so _fast_, and why did Carlos have to be singing so _loud_? He heard himself fall to the floor before he felt it, but the second he did… _crap_. How did the ceiling get up there?

Logan, luckily, seemed to notice how nauseous the fall had made him feel, and he had shoved a trashcan up to his face before Kendall managed to throw up all over himself. Oh no… he was _sick_. Logan rubbed his back as he dry heaved into the metal bin. "Still wanna sing?" he asked, annoyingly and patronizingly enough, but his tone was light. Kendall shook his head again but –ugh- bad life choices… He gagged a bit, and suddenly he was aware of Logan slipping his arm over his own shoulders, and placing a skinny pale one around his waist to hoist him up.

"Got him, Logan?" Carlos asked, and the slightly taller boy nodded, helping him walk down the hallway to lie down on the couch in the lobby. Kendall didn't think he could move again, even if he tried… But, gosh, he just wanted he to be _home_. Kendall wrapped his arms around his tummy and couldn't help but squirm on the cushions. Logan sat in the chair next to him.

"What feels icky, buddy?" he asked, and Kendall really, _really_ hated the little kid talk that had unintentionally slipped from Logan's mouth. He was fine; he just needed to get back on his feet… Except, he _wasn't_ fine. It felt like all of his insides wanted out, and they wanted out _now_. He choked back the bile rising in his throat, and thank the Lord for Logan because he had managed to grab him another trash bin and stick it at his side as he threw up yet again.

"Everything," he moaned, and Logan hummed above him. His little hands fingered through his hair, and Kendall had to admit that it felt really good on his hot face.

"I'm going to need you to be a little more specific," he laughed, and Kendall couldn't help but groan, shoving his face into the pillow. The lights suddenly felt to way to bright, and he had forgotten how much vomiting _sucked_.

"My head hurts," he tallied, "my stomach hurts, I'm all dizzy, and I'm _tired_." He was whining, and he knew it, but he _was_ dizzy, and he _was_ tired, and he _hated_ feeling so gross. His teeth felt fuzzy and his throat burned from vomiting, and Logan thankfully moved the trashcan far enough away so that he couldn't smell it anymore. The fumes had honestly been doing nothing to keep him from getting sick again.

"Okay, buddy. We'll get you home," he said, and Kendall couldn't resist a smile. Home. Thank goodness. Logan wove his fingers through his hair again, and all too slowly, Kendall fell asleep. He must have been pretty out of it, too, because he didn't wake up until the next day, somehow having transported back to his bed. He tried to sit up, but regretted it when his brain seemed to explode.

Maybe he could be sick, just for the day…

**Ah. There we are. Look at me! Writing so much! Expect more for tomorrow! I'm on a roll, and I don't want to break it! I swear… **


End file.
